


Now's the Time

by Meilan_Firaga



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Conversations, Could Be Canon, Gen, Late Night Conversations, Missing Scene, could be au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:28:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27425719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meilan_Firaga/pseuds/Meilan_Firaga
Summary: Prison made Sirius Black more serious, but what he really needs to make a difference is the ability to be his wild and mischievous self again. It's a good thing his old friend is there to remind him.
Relationships: Sirius Black & Remus Lupin
Comments: 4
Kudos: 4
Collections: Fic In A Box





	Now's the Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Chocolatepot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chocolatepot/gifts).



A bright fire crackled in the hearth of the study at Number 12 Grimmauld Place, casting flickering light across the dark woods of the room. Two wingback armchairs were positioned close to the hearth, knitted throws draped over their backs more out of decoration than a need to ward off the chill. A spindly mahogany table sat between the chairs, two lowball glasses perched on its surface, each half full of amber liquid that shot off tiny pops of golden sparks every few minutes. Both chairs were occupied by wizards, and they were both slumped down in the seats with exhaustion on their features.

“Do you think we’ll ever get to just live our lives without war looming on the horizon?” Sirius asked, reaching over to take one of the glasses in hand. “Or are we doomed to have to fight forever?”

“I don’t know,” Remus admitted. His face was tilted to the fire, but his gaze was distant, focused on some faraway mental landscape.

With a humorless laugh, Sirius knocked back the remainder of his drink. He pulled his wand from his pocket and summoned the decanter from across the room. As he poured a few more fingers of whiskey he grew maudlin. “Do you ever wonder if it’s your fault?”

“You’ve personally seen to it that continuous generations of witches and wizards have placed blood supremacy above basic human decency?” Remus knocked back his own glass, his previously unfocused gaze zeroing in on Sirius’ face with mockery in his eyes. “Why, Sirius, I had no idea you had such power.”

“No need to be a prat, Moony,” Sirius pouted. Sullen, he reached over to top up Remus’ glass as well. He took a deep breath, settling the decanter on the spindly table between their cups. “I only meant that I wonder sometimes if some of us don’t deserve this life. For all the awful things we’ve done.”

In the chair opposite him, Remus let the hand holding his glass swing low, dangling at his fingertips. He stared hard at his friend, taking in every inch of him. His hair was smooth and neatly trimmed, a sharp contrast to the bedraggled mess it had been after Azkaban. His cheekbones stood out starkly against the rest of his face, still more gaunt than they had been before his imprisonment. There was a sadness behind his eyes that had never been there before James and Lily died, a first-hand knowledge of the world’s evils. He was the same man that Remus had gone to school with, but there were things he could see now that he’d never expected his friend to have within his bearing.

“You’re not a monster, Sirius,” he said quietly, sympathy coloring his words. He knew all too well what it felt like to regret. “You were a troubled boy who acted out. You made poor choices, but those were just mistakes. A life wrought with war and suffering is not your penance for the worst decisions of a teenage boy.”

Sirius scoffed. “It’s not just Snivellus and the incident with you on your monthlies,” he growled. “There were times I should have done things and didn’t. James and Lily. I tried to tell them something didn’t feel right about the Secret Keeper decision. I knew it in my bones that Wormtail was the wrong choice. But they didn’t want to listen, and I didn’t press the matter.”

“Don’t make me hex you.” Remus leaned forward, purposefully clinking their glasses together to encourage his friend to take another sip. “That wasn’t your fault. And don’t try that old line you always used in school about there being seers in the Black family tree. If you had any sort of sight you wouldn’t have flunked every Divination exam in fifth year.”

“Blimey, but that was a terrible class,” Sirius muttered. “Dream journals. Utter nightmare.” He shook his head, turning back to the conversation at hand. “How about all this, then? Voldemort back, Order reformed, the evil stepmother from every fairy tale is running Hogwarts, and no matter how much I insist that my instincts are good no one will believe me when I say that we are doing Harry a disservice by not making sure he’s as informed as the rest of us in the goings-on of a war that will define his generation. No matter how much I argue for it in the end I still just let Molly and Dumbledore railroad me into keeping quiet.”

Remus raised an eyebrow and then rolled his eyes at the woeful countenance his best friend had taken on. It was a melancholy straight out of a Shakespearean play. Then, he swiftly reached over and jabbed his index finger hard into the space between Sirius’ ribs, right where he knew it would hurt the most. He snorted out a laugh when the other man winced and swore, immediately turning into an indignant child once more. 

“Fuck me, Mooney. What was that for?”

“Ah, there’s the idiot I know,” Remus mused fondly. “Swearing like a sailor and immediately defensive. You do realize that Harry is still alive, yes? And that he adores your flea-bitten hide beyond all reason? Aside from being a fugitive from the Ministry who can’t be spotted outside, there’s not actually anything stopping you from telling him everything your gut thinks he should know.” 

For a moment, Sirius looked as though he’d been bludgeoned over the head. Remus could almost see the gears turning behind his eyes while he considered the thought. It really spoke to the despair-inducing powers of Azkaban that it had made Sirius Black, the most rebellious and mischievous of them all, into someone who hesitated. Remus shook his head, glanced at the contents of both of their glasses, and reached out to double the amount of whiskey in each.

“The rules of others have never really stopped you before.”

“No,” Sirius agreed, a smirk crossing his face. He lifted his glass to eye level, tilting it back and forth in the light from the fire. “No, they have not.”

“There’s no one else here tonight,” Remus continued, turning his gaze back to the fire even as he turned the rest of his senses to focus on his friend. “Seems like if there was ever going to be a moment to defy all instructions given by the Order’s fearless leader and plot a way to tell Harry everything we know about the battles to come…” He trailed off, waiting to see if Sirius would pick up where he was leaving off. He was not disappointed. 

“Now’s the time,” Sirius said with a grin. He pushed himself up from the chair and paced over to the fireplace. He took a swig from his drink and set it down on the mantle before turning back to face Remus. “Only two of us Marauders left. Are you going to help me with this one, Mooney.”

Smiling, Remus raised his glass. “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.”


End file.
